One Love, One Hundred Expressions
by Merry Faerie
Summary: UsagixMamoru short stories. When push comes to shove, true love will emerge in all its glory. It's just going to take a while. Drabbles written in response to the 100 themes challenge on LJ. Series entails romance, humor, and waff!
1. No 24: Dragonfly

Written for the 100 Themes Challenge on the UsakoMamoru LJ Community. This was my first drabble and I plan to submit/ post more in the following days/weeks/months (/years?)

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#24: Dragonfly

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She stood at the prow of the rowboat, and for some reason, his eyes of midnight-blue couldn't, wouldn't leave her figure. 

Her back was to him so that he could see the delicate curvature of her spine. She faced the delightful warmth of the sun as it bathed her in its golden light and he was sure her features were sparkling with joy. It was a lovely day, but really, it was nothing to her.

He didn't notice the sly looks Motoki shot him, the same Motoki who had literally dragged him out of his apartment for a day with the girls. The same Motoki who'd accidentally plunked him on the head with his oar five seconds after they'd left land. Who was Motoki again?

Her arms were outstretched, her lavender-blue wrap spreading with them, fluttering in the tender breeze that sifted through her pigtails and caressed her flushed cheek. The light caused the wrap to appear iridescent and glimmering, like the wings of a dragonfly.

That's it, he thought to himself. She's a dragonfly. Gliding across the smooth lake waters without a care in the world.

And then he, the frog, intent upon taking the dragonfly's pleasure, had to let its tongue loose: "Hey Odango, move your big head so other people can see!"

She pivoted, about to retort, one hand releasing an end of her gossamer wrap. Somehow she tangled herself in it and tripped. Her golden antennae flew out as she slammed into the water with the grace of...well, definitely not a dragonfly. SPLASH!

Dragonfly overboard.

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So that's that. I had fun writing it, and hope you enjoyed it. Please don't ask for me to update this drabble; it defeats the purpose. But I shall be writing more in the coming days. Until next time! 


	2. No 16: Behind the Blue Curtain

Written for the 100 Themes Challenge on the UsakoxMamoru LJ Community. These drabbles are getting addicting.

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#16: Behind the Blue Curtain

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"Motoki-kun, what do you keep over there?" 

"Where, Mina-chan?"

"Behind you."

The sandy-haired man looked over a broad shoulder, emerald eyes straying to the far back of the arcade. He turned back and continued to wipe a gleaming glass, saying, "Papers, receipts, my cashbox, and bills and stuff like that. Why?"

The girl bit her pale pink lip in thought. "It's just that I thought I saw Usagi-chan sneaking over there the other day."

"Unless she's doing my taxes for me, I doubt that that was where she was heading," Motoki said, picking up another glass, which he'd already polished twice. "She was probably going to the bathroom."

Minako bobbed her head. "I guess. Hey, I think you missed a spot. Haha, gotcha!"

_---Earlier...---_

"Would you just quit it, Mamoru-baka? Stop criticizing my grades, stop making fun of my clumsiness, and stay out of my life!"

"If it were any other person, I would Odango, but you're just begging to be mocked." Mamoru's face held an arrogant smirk as he calmly took a sip of his steaming coffee.

Usagi made a loud, exasperated noise, slamming her backpack down on a table. She marched up to Mamoru and thrust her face close to his. Her fists were clenched tightly and she was trembling. Crystal blue eyes collided with cobalt blue orbs. The customers, or spectators, of the Crown Arcade watched with bated breath.

Usagi whispered something in Mamoru's ear. He stiffened and his long fingers released his coffee cup.

"What sauce, Odango," he said between apparently gritted teeth. Everyone was desperate to know what Usagi could have said to have such an affect on Mamoru, but he uttered nothing more.

Usagi shot him a sassy smile before striding back to the booth she was sharing with the girls.

---

A svelte figure snuck behind the arcade counter after making doubly sure that Motoki was still on the phone with Reika. The figure tiptoed to the far back of the arcade, past the bathroom and slid behind a deep blue curtain.

"Odango?"

Usagi's eyes made out a dark, strapping shape in the bad lighting of the alcove. There was no doubt as to who stood before her. She leant forward until their faces were a hairsbreadth away from one another for the second time that day.

"Don't worry, there's no one around."

"Good."

In an instant, Mamoru slipped a broad hand behind the girl's slim neck and eased her forward so that their lips met. Usagi's velvety lips matched his own in the endless embrace. The intoxicating flavors of vanilla and roses intermingled to become one. Her flaxen ribbons were soon tangled into his fingers. His arm around her waist, he pulled her closer so that their bodies could find one another in the darkness, both of them ignoring the rustle of papers. She released a soft sigh, her tiny hands gliding over Mamoru's broad shoulders. When the cursed lack of oxygen made itself clear they slowly, painfully, they pulled away from each other.

Mamoru seated her on the small table so that for once, they were the same height. Holding her hands between his large ones he grinned and whispered, "You're a pretty good little actress, Usako."

Usagi giggled softly. "Your face was priceless when I told you to meet me here."

His fingers dancing with the blonde's own, Mamoru responded, "That's not the only thing you said, as I recall. How was I supposed to keep my cool?"

Another hushed laugh, pealing in his ears like music.

"When do you think they'll find out?" Usagi asked suddenly.

"I'm not sure. I haven't minded keeping it under the covers like this, though." Mamoru lifted Usagi's hand and began kissing her fingertips one by one.

A delightful shiver ran up her spine. She didn't mind either.

"By the way, why _did_ you want to meet here again?" asked Mamoru, looking into her face. Such soft, delicate features, radiating in the darkness. "Someone might stumble in on us at anytime."

"I know." She grinned. "It gives them a better chance to find out about us. And don't you agree that it's kind of thrilling?"

"Yes, Usa, but every moment with you is thrilling for me. Though I'd rather no one _did_ find us in here."

Usagi brought a hand to her love's forehead, sweeping his ebony locks away tenderly. "Agreed."

"I just hope Motoki doesn't notice what a mess all his papers are in."

_---Present---_

"Hey, Motoki, about that curtain?" Minako asked after finishing off her sundae.

"Uh-huh?"

"What made you hang it up in the first place?"

"It keeps the cashbox out of sight. As a matter of fact, Usagi suggested it."

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Ah, hidden romance. So much fun. 


	3. No 36: Champagne

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# 36: Champagne--100 words

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It was effervescent. Bubbly.

Just like her.

When the light grazed it from the perfect angle, it was golden and pure.

Just like her.

It was like ambrosia, a nectar of the gods. So desirable was it.

Not so much as her, though.

With an inaudible sigh he took another slow sip from the flute of champagne. His blue orbs gazed at her through crystalline glass and liquid gold. So sparklingly animated.

That was just like her.

Another sigh, another sip.

He didn't notice her glance wistfully back at him through lustrous lashes.

He had it bad.

Just like her.

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Yay, my first one-hundred word drabble! Any comments: 


	4. No 45: Cape

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# 45: Cape

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She'd been looking forward to a calm, youma-free night. With a cup of hot chocolate that she'd sneaked into her room and a fuzzy pink blanket around her shoulders, she was ready to relax on that January evening. That was when her communicator went off.  
After cursing the blasted thing and having Luna claw her to stop the communicator's demise, Usagi climbed out her window to reluctantly join the ongoing fight.

She stopped short when she reached the park where the Senshi were already battling the youma. "Mars, please tell me that thing does not control ice," she whimpered.

"Sailor Moon, unless you want the youma to prove it to you by pegging you with a lump of ice, I suggest dusting it!" At the sound of their voices, the hulking, ice-manipulating youma turned to glare menacingly at Sailor Moon.

"_Ouch_!"

"Too late," Mars muttered.

So now Sailor Moon sat beneath a tree, rubbing her arms and legs to create some heat, however minimal. There was ice in her boots, ice in her odangoes, ice flecking her eyelashes, slushy, half-melted ice in her gloves. She'd never eat ice-cream again. Never. Okay, maybe she would, but she wouldn't be able to look at it without scowling.

The youma had been moondusted fairly quickly tonight. Probably because Sailor Moon had been so furious at being struck by ice when she was already freezing. She had told the Senshi to leave her. She'd be going after she'd gotten her energy back and swept all the ice off of herself. Her parents would not be too happy if they found puddles of water all over her room. _On second thought_, she mused, _I _could _just blame Luna._ Payback for the claw marks on her leg.

After wishing aloud that her fuku was longer than four inches she looked up and started. The tall, impressive form of Tuxedo Kamen stood over her.

"I seem to be late."

She nodded. "It was a fast fight."

"Snow youma?" he asked as he took in her shivering body and the icy flakes in her clothing and hair.

"Ice," she corrected.

"Oh." With more concern than he'd liked to have shown, he said, "Here, take this." In a trice, something black and crimson had been wrapped around her form. Almost instantly, her trembling ceased.

"Thank you," she whispered in gratitude. So much better than a fuzzy pink blanket.

The sound of a cat screeching in the distance sliced through the night; the awkward yet comfortable silence was broken. Silently, he made as if to leave. Sailor Moon began to draw the cape from around her, but he stopped her.

"Keep it until next time."

Then he disappeared into the night as usual, albeit the swooshing of his cape. Left alone to her thoughts, she drew the cape more tightly around her. She reveled in his warmth still left over in its folds, his musky and sweet scent, and the sense of security it gave her. She suddenly pictured herself wrapped in the cape, with him still wearing it. _That would be heaven_, she thought with a small sigh.

Her little fingers smoothed out the creases in the cape, wondering at the surprisingly soft texture. Then she came across a slit in the crimson lining. It was a pocket. She felt excitement well up within her chest. Maybe, there was a clue to his identity in this pocket! Maybe a library card or an initialed handkerchief! She didn't stop to think why Tuxedo Kamen would carry around his library card in his cape. Her hand deftly withdrew the object from its small pocket. She held it up in the dim light of a lamp post.

It was a white mask.

She got over her disappointment quickly and examined the object. _An extra mask, maybe? In case he loses his other one? He's not only gallant, he's also prepared for anything._

She ran a thumb along the snowy white mask. With a smile, she put it on and fastened the cape. So this was what it felt like to be Tuxedo Kamen. She stood up from her grassy seat and promptly tripped on the ends of the cape.

---

A ruffle-haired Mamoru opened the door of his apartment the next morning. He was just in time to see the gossipy wife of a corporate raider passing by.

She stopped upon seeing him. "Chiba-san, have you heard?" asked the robed woman, looking ready to chat for a few hours.

"Heard what, Maruyama-san?" he said politely.

"Why, this!" She thrust the newspaper that she'd been holding into his hands. When he looked at the front page, he felt sure his eyes were ready to fall out of his head. The headlines read, "Tuxedo Moon?" and underneath was a black-and-white photo of a caped, shadowy someone leaping from one building to another. Someone with odangoes and streamers of hair flying behind her.

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R-E-V-I-E-W! See, I spelled it out for you, my precious readers.  



	5. No 22: Christmas

Hope you all enjoy my Christmas drabble!

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# 22: Christmas

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He spun around in his stool to survey the Crown Arcade. Its spicy green Christmassy scent assaulted his senses. Motoki seemed to be intent upon instilling everyone with the Christmas spirit. There were plastic snowmen, holly wreaths, little icicle lights, and even some fake snow spread on the floor in strategic places. The problem with these little snow banks was that any customer who happened upon them was floored. Literally. 

Mamoru's ocean-blue gaze glided over his surroundings. Then his eyes stopped at a certain someone and it was as if a flare had gone up in his head. A smile that would have put the Cheshire Cat to shame spread across his handsome face. In a few moments he'd walked to a corner of the Arcade and halted in front of Usagi's booth.

She was busily writing something in a spiral notebook, tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. She was so engrossed in her task, that she didn't even notice Mamoru standing in front of her.

The man's eyebrows went up. Since when was Usagi so absorbed in homework that she didn't even pay him any heed? Curiously, he bent down to read what she was writing and his dark head bumped with her fair one.

"Mamoru-baka!" Usagi screamed.

"My Christmas Wish List," Mamoru read calmly. "Now let's see what Odango wants for Christmas. A new brain, perhaps?" His hand went out to detach the paper from the notebook and read it properly. Like lightning, Usagi yanked the notebook away and held it to her chest as if it were a lifeline.

She was too late. In his hand, Mamoru already held the coveted piece of paper and was reading it aloud.

"A life-sized, fluffy pink bunny. Don't want to know what you're going to do with that."

Usagi made a sound of rage and grabbed at the list. Mamoru simply held it higher, far out of her grasp.

"Two: Special Platinum Edition of "Sailor V's Victory" with Outtakes. You're cultured you are, Odango."

"Mamoru-baka!"

"Three: a...cat muzzle? Is there even such a thing? What on Earth are you doing to your cat for her to need a muzzle? She's a quiet little thing, unlike her mistress."

_Shows what you know_, thought Usagi.

"So these are Odango's desires, eh?" Mamoru said, having come to the end of the short list. "Well, being that you've been so naughty, you're not going to—"

He was interrupted by a hand snatching the paper away. Usagi tucked it into her navy blue coat pocket. "For your information, Mamoru, I am going to get what I wish for. All you're getting, on the other hand, is a lump of coal."

With that dire prediction, Usagi flounced out of the Arcade. Outside, the wintry wind whipped her ponytails and brought an intense flush to her cheeks. She had her notebook clutched in her hands, and slowly, she opened it to the first page.

My **Real** Christmas Wish List

1. Mamoru  
2. Mamoru with a red bow on his head  
3. Mamoru underneath a gigantic sprig of mistletoe  
4. A cat muzzle (still)  
5. Mamoru in a sparkly green box

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Merry Christmas everyone!  



	6. No 21: Mischief

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#21: Mischief

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Full Name: Chiba Mamoru

Address: Azabu Heights, Apartment #2B, 17-8-3 Azabu, Minato-ku, Tokyo

Telephone Number: (03)-4267-6468

Are you of legal age to work: Yes, unless in presence of one Tsukino Usagi. Under these circumstances, behavior pinponts age at around 7 years

Hours willing to work: Any before/after-school hours that do not interfere with a) collision with Usagi in the morning b) afternoon argument(s) with said girl c) evening hours spent pining away for Usagi

Desired Position: Most will do--in front of, behind, underneath (favorite), or beside Usagi...Oh, that of waiter as well

Current Status: Out-of-work college student with only responsible, handsome best friend, a quarrelsome Usagi, and trashed love letters (no prizes for guessing the would-be recipient) for company

**NOTE**: A.K.A. Mamoru-baka, Jerkwad, etc.

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"And that's just page one." Grin. 

"...Motoki?"

"Yes?"

"What. Is. This."

"Well, you've been busy lately so I decided to fill the application out for you."

"I even made a copy for you to give to Usagi-chan."

"Mamoru?"

"Would you prefer death by coffee mug or wadded paper?"

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So that's that. Hope you liked it. Anyone like to try to decode Mamoru's phone number? Oh yes, there's a message there...  



	7. No 67: Weeping Willow

IIIIIIIIIIIII'M BACK!

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#67: Weeping Willow

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His gaze followed her bare feet as they padded through the dewy grass with taffeta skirts hitched up past decency. She turned an eager pair of blue eyes on him and called back. 

"Do you like it, Endy?"

The question didn't register for a few moments. Then he slowly began to take in his surroundings. A crystalline brook twisted between the prince and princess like a rippling streamer; clusters of white and pink flowers dotted the grassy banks; funny cattails hung limply over the water. There was also a stout, stumpy plant that he took to be a bush, but more closely resembled a suckling pig.

He would never say so, though. This was the corner of the palace gardens that the princess herself had put much work into, tending it with the love she bestowed upon every living thing around her.

"Of course." He neatly leaped over the brook. "I especially like this willow tree."

He was sure her beaming smile would blind him.

"That's why I chose this spot! Willow makes everything so cool and light and comforting." She brushed a hand across the curtain of silvery-green branches. "Sit with me, Endy," she said as she seated herself in the willow's shade and dipped her feet into the water.

Endymion, on the other hand, was in a more playful mood.

"Serenity, are you attempting to give me, the Prince of the Terran Kingdom, Ambassador of the Arctic, Conqueror of Jolidistan orders?" he asked, raising his chin higher with every title.

Serenity, however, merely yawned (without even shielding the royal mouth).

"Endy, do stop with that title nonsense," she told her friend mock-condescendingly. "Your parents probably only made you "ambassador of the arctic" so you'd go exploring and accidentally fall into a volcano. As for—what _are_ you laughing at? Endy!"

Endymion, who was doubled over with mirth, managed to gasp out, "As long as the Arctic zebras hadn't trampled me first, eh Sere?"

Serenity nodded seriously. "You've certainly got to keep an eye out for the zebras. Oh and the hipotenusamuses. Selene, he's off again. Endy, what's so funny!" Her only response were a few unprincely snorts. She jumped up from her spot in the grass to give Endymion, who had collapsed against the willow tree's trunk, a nice smack on the shoulder.

"Ouch!"

"Why do you keep laughing at me?"

He gave his companion an innocent look. "I would _never_ laugh at you, Sere." His eyes strayed down to see that her pale green skirts were still bundled up higher than decorum commanded. "Now, be decent, Mistress Moon, and stop tucking your skirt like that."

She jutted her chin out defiantly. "What for? It's hot out."

"Just as I said, it's not decent for ladies to hoist their skirts up in such an unbecoming fashion," he said loftily. Decorum commanded it, not him. "You don't see women on Earth doing such a thing."

"Well, I'm not a woman of Earth, am I?" she shot back. With that, she nipped her skirts up higher and alluringly extended a creamy leg.

Decorum be damned.

Still, he wasn't going to give in to her Venusian tendencies. No, he was going to be the one mature, stalwart royal in this situation.

"Endy, give me back my dress ribbon!"

The green ribbon only waved mockingly at her as it and Endymion flew alongside the brook. But something the prince knew quite well was that Princess Serenity was a champion runner. Of course he knew it—he was counting on it.

In an instant, she was upon him, and there was a confusion of green skirts and strong arms, tumbling, squealing, until two pairs of soft, tempting lips found one another and the world stood still except for the fluttering of heartbeats and the tangle of limbs and the sweet sighs of satisfaction that left the young lovers and the breeze that swept through the feathery branches of the willow.

And when, what seemed to be an eternity later, the Lunarian sky was painted blood-red and shrieks of misery and raging battle tore through the air, the willow bent in the anguish it shared with its owner and her love. When all was silent, the willow tree gave a final groan and toppled into the brook, weeping until all was desiccated.

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Yes, a bit of angst there. This is my first Silver Millenium fic. Yay for the aristocratic manner of speaking--it's so proper. Hope you enjoyed, tell me what you think! 


	8. No 26: Telephone

** # 26: Telephone **

_RRRiiiinnng!_

Answer it.

_RRRiiiinnng!_

You know you want to. Strike that--have to.

_RRRiiiinnng!_

Stop staring at it. Just stretch out your arm and pick up the receiver.

_RRRiiinng!_

Listen to it taunting you, knowing that you don't have the nerve to answer.

_RRRii--_

Utter silence. You didn't answer it.

A satin pillow clutched to your chest, hot forehead cooled by a breeze swirling into the room.

Next time you'll answer it. You've got to.

Because next time it could be him.

When the telephone rings, hopes always build up within the same chest pressed to the satin pillow. But you're afraid of their crumpling into nothing but despair once you answer. Still you await the call, thrilling, terrifying, vital...impossible?

No, not impossible. Else, why do you wait for his call?

Next time, you could pick up the phone and hear his baritone. Silky and inviting, confessing overwhelming desire. So very familiar to your own heart.

But you can only know if you answer the phone.

Or better yet, dial his number. 


	9. No 95: RSVP

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#95: RSVP

* * *

"Ow! Usagi, that's my foot!"

"And _that's_ my hair. Help me get it out of your bracelet before we get inside. People might start thinking you're some freak who wears people on your bracelet like charms. Not that I'm not charming, right?"

"Give me a break Odango Atama. Will someone knock already?"

Makoto gave the apartment door a smart knock. It opened with a creak and the girls were immediately met with techno music, coming from within and a copper-haired man. He was grinning so goofily that they suspected he was drunk.

Attempting to wink, which actually resulted in a squint, he said, "Hey, Maemi-chan, how 'bout a kiss?" With that, he collapsed to the floor.

Definitely drunk.

"I wish we hadn't come."

"Oh, come on Ami. People gatecrash parties all the time. Anyway, this isn't exactly one of those events that merit black ties and an RSVP," said Minako.

"And here's living, drunken proof," muttered Rei as she nudged the fallen man out of the way, allowing the girls to sidle in as one.

"Now what?" asked Usagi, rather in awe at her dim, sultry surroundings and the (mostly inebriated) University students surrounding them.

"We start spouting ritualistic chants, Odango."

Usagi may actually have done so if she had not suddenly said, "Stop breathing down my neck, Rei."

"That's not me."

"Well then, stop it, Mako-chan."

"Not me."

"Is it you Minako?"

"..."

"Minako?"

Makoto pointed to the hard-to-miss, ebullient, blonde girl, who was busy chatting away with a man whose hair was so pale, it appeared to be white.

"Then, Ami?"

"No."

Silence. Which was suddenly broken by a husky, "Hello, ladies."

There were a few gasps and hushed screams, followed by frantic scrambling.

"It's a monster! Get it away!"

There was a low chuckle and the "monsters" came into the light.

"Mamoru-baka!"

"Motoki!"

"Oh well, I was close when I said monster."

"Ah, Odango, what a wonderfully sharp tongue you possess."

Motoki grinned good-naturedly at the four girls. "Hi, girls. I didn't know you knew Michio-kun."

"Uh..well..."

Mamoru arched an eyebrow. "We seem to have encountered some gatecrashers."

"So what?" Usagi shot back defiantly.

"_So_, an ickle girl like you doesn't belong at a party like this."

Before Usagi could retaliate, Motoki pushed Mamoru away playfully. "Don't listen to him. He's mad because all the drinks are gone."

"No, I'm annoyed because wherever I go, Odango Atama always seems to turn up like a bad penny and get in my way. I can never get rid of her."

"I think I'll go see what Minako's doing," Ami murmured. She was followed by Makoto, who was dragging Rei along with her.

"But I want to see what happens," protested the miko.

Uneasily, Motoki looked between the smirking Mamoru and Usagi, who was swelling up like a balloon, face going red. "Uh, I'm gonna get some chips." As he turned around, he muttered, "And a hose. They say that shocks dogs out of fighting, so why not them?"

Just as Usagi was ready to explode--

"How about we forget the fighting for a while?"

"What!"

Mamoru was amused at the almost-scandalized look on the girl's face.

_Why would he want a truce?_ though Usagi. _He's probably trying to avoid being smacked with my shoe, like he was at our last meeting. Well, it might be nice..._

"We could talk as if we were the best and dearest friends in the world."

"And then I suppose we'll have a nice game of Scrabble on the sofa, amidst the drunken people and vomit?" she drawled, not sure she was hearing right.

"Exactly," he chuckled. Also, it would keep her away from some of the university creeps he knew...

A heavy, pensive silence followed. Usagi looked at the expression on his handsome face (_I'll give him that much credit, he_ is _cute_) and half-thought she detected sincerity in it.

"All right," she conceded.

"Okay. What's your favorite school subject?"

"Art."

"Really? I thought it was lunchtime."

"Mamoru-b..._Mamoru_," she said warningly. "This was your idea."

"Okay, okay. But, art, I wasn't expecting that. You should show me some of your art."

"I might if you _model_ for me sometime."

Mamoru choked on the breath he'd started to inhale. "H-how did you--"

With mischievously glittering blue eyes she said, "Know? I know more about you than even _I_ realized."

"So...now I'm weirded out."

Usagi giggled. She explained: "I saw you at a big event for an advertising company; they called you up and talked about your very impressive modeling career and such."

Recalling, Mamoru grimaced and said, "Yeah, I felt like a baboon at the zoo."

"Hey guys, I brought you some snacks." Motoki had popped out of nowhere, extending the plates out as if they were peace offerings. "How are we doing? Any bones broken yet?"

"Don't be silly, Motoki," said Mamoru. Putting what was meant to be a friendly arm around Usagi's shoulders he told the blonde man, "Usagi and I are the best of friends; we cherish one another with all our hearts."

Motoki's jaw fell slack and his eyes widened so comically that Usagi tried not to laugh. A little awed, he backed away. "I see you've been going at the beer," he muttered. Then he turned and scrambled over to the girls, hissing something and pointing at the black-haired man and Usagi. After an earnest conference, Minako said something that sounded like, "Pay up, everyone."

Usagi looked up at Mamoru, whose strong arm was still wrapped around her. It made her feel warm and protected. She felt herself falling dreamily into his touch, suddenly feeling saddened at the thought of his arm slipping away from her shoulders. But eventually, it did.

With a grin, Mamoru looked at the odangoed girl. He ignored what had just happened with Motoki and continued their conversation. "So, did you crash that advertising party, too?"

"Mamoru, believe me, I had to RSVP that time. How else could I get in your way, turning up like the bad penny that I am?" she asked him with a smile. "You'll never get rid of me."

_Who said I wanted to?

* * *

_It's not quite what I wanted, but I tried. I know, it's long for a drabble. Forgive me? _  
_


	10. No 72: Fortune

**#72: Fortune**

She came waddling up the lane, attracting many stares from passersby. Black flyaway hair framed her face. She wore a shapeless black dress and smelt of herbs and cat. She slumped something awful, and no wonder! An awing amount of jewelry hung about her, jangling bracelets, brassy earrings, shell necklaces, beaded necklaces, all manner of necklaces!

In a croaking voice she called out, "Fortunes! Fortunes told for one dalla!"

Usagi and Makoto lifted their heads as one from their lawn chairs.

"A fortuneteller!"

Makoto took off her sunglasses as if to make certain that what she was seeing was real. "Weird. What's she doing here?"

"Well, there's that carnival here. She's probably part of it. Oh, let's wave her over," Usagi insisted, hopping up and running to her front gate. Groaning about having to abandon the delicious spot, Makoto joined her friend, who was already letting the fortune teller in.

---

"Don't you need to be in a darkened room to do this?" Makoto said as the fortune teller seated herself in _her_ lawn chair. She looked up sharply from Usagi to the brunette who seemed skeptical about the whole thing.

"That's for when you has crystal ball, silly girl! You friend's palm dark-in-the-glow?" she demanded. And the woman whapped Makoto's own palm for good measure.

"Ow!"

Usagi tried to stifle a laugh as she offered her palm. "Don't mind Makoto. Here you go."

The woman immediately set to work, peering over Usagi's palm. "Hmm, yes, yes. So clear, so crystal."

"What?" Usagi asked.

"It say that you have long life. Long, long, long--"

"Yeah okay, we get it," interrupted Makoto. "Ouch, would you stop hitting me!"

The woman went on, ignoring Makoto. "You be successful. And in love! Love great for you!"

"Yes, go on," Usagi said in a hushed voice. "Who will love me?"

"Mmm, he very handsome. Tall, dark, sexy, blue eyes, black hair."

With each word Usagi took a sharper breath, eyes wide and sparkling. "Oh, are you sure?"

The fortuneteller smiled, revealing gaps in her teeth. "Positive."

Usagi brought her hand to her mouth, looking as if a dream she had never dared to hope for was slowly unfolding into reality. Then she quickly extended her palm again, urging the fortuneteller to go on.

The fortune teller squinted hard at the proffered hand. "I no see one dalla."

"Oh, oops, I forgot. Makoto do you have--" she stopped when she saw the brunette's dark face, "--never mind, I think I have a dalla, er dollar, inside. Please, don't go away," Usagi called back, as she seemed to skip into the house.

"What was with the hitting thing, huh?"

"I was getting into character," the fortuneteller sniffed. Her voice seemed to be much clearer and lighter than before, and her bright blue eyes no longer squinted at Makoto. "But did you see her face when I talked about Mamoru loving her? She was practically floating out of her seat."

Makoto nodded slowly as she sat down. "Yeah, you were right. Usagi is totally gone on him. But would ya quit smirking at me? Those blackened teeth creep me out."

"First gimme one dalla."

"Oh, shut up."

* * *

I'm really not sure if this one is any good but it was fun to write! 


	11. No 25: Caramel Apple

# 25: Caramel Apple

* * *

It was the oddest thing.

Two golden odangoes were floating beside Mamoru's table. Now, most people might have drawn back at the sight, maybe screamed about UFO's (Unidentified Flying Odangoes), or (if that particular person was hungry) attacked them with a fork. Not Mamoru. As he continued to feign studying up on the physiology of an ameboid protozoa he said, "Odango, are you trying to make yourself invisible? Because, you're not very good at it. Unfortunately," he added, making sure to be loud enough for her to hear.

"Oooh, be quiet Mamoru-baka!"

He winced at the squeal. If she'd been trying to hide, her cover was definitely blown "I've got an idea. Next time try being inaudible."

He discovered that a head came with the odangoes as it popped up along with a tiny fist holding a caramel apple. A pink tongue came out to lick the apple.

"Odango, excuse me for asking, but why are you making a pathetic attempt at hiding from, if I'm correct, your reflection?"

Usagi looked ready to shove her apple into his mouth to stifle his comments. Then she looked at its smooth, shining surface and licked it again.

Usagi unexpectedly slid into the booth beside Mamoru, ducking her head as she did so.

"I'm hiding from my Great Aunt Hisa. She's visiting and whenever she does she never lets me eat the things I want to."

"I wonder why." Mamoru visualized the many tooth-decaying, sugar-ridden treats Usagi cherished and grimaced.

"She seems to think I'll gain twenty pounds for every candy I eat! Anyway, if she sees me with this she'll say how it's my one-way ticket to diabetes and so on and so forth. But I couldn't help buying it at the carnival. I sort of.."

"Ditched your aunt to eat it?" he asked in amusement.

She looked shamefaced. "But still, doesn't it look scrumptious?" she asked as she ran her tongue over the apple.

"Uh..." Mamoru seemed to have forgotten how to form intelligible words.

Usagi didn't notice though. Her cornflower blue eyes widened and Mamoru looked to see what she was staring at.

In walked Usagi's posse, followed by a skinny, severe-looking woman.

"Usagi, your aunt's been looking for you," Minako said.

The harassed girl had ducked too late for her aunt had already nailed her with a piercing look. "Usagi, where have you been? Come along, we're due to help your mother cook dinner. And what is that?" she asked, spotting the caramel apple.

"Erm a...protein...apple?"

"You get rid of that one-way ticket to diabetes, Usagi. Put it in the trash and come along home. You girls are having dinner with us?" she asked, turning to the four girls.

"Er, yes Tsukino-san," Makoto answered, elbowing Rei as she began to grumble about "of all the days we say yes to having dinner with Usagi."

Great Aunt Hisa briskly walked out the door, calling for Usagi to toss the caramel apple and didn't she know what a trash can looked like?

With a somewhat pained expression on her face, Usagi whipped her head from the apple to the door and then to Mamoru. A sudden gleam came to her eyes and she thrust the apple into Mamoru's hands. Before he could raise an eyebrow she'd run out the door giggling. He heard her answering her Great Aunt Hisa, saying that yes, she'd found the trash can.

Grinning, Usagi's friends followed out her the door. All except for Rei, who was pretending to eye the apple, while really eyeing Mamoru.

"You probably want to throw that away, Mamoru-san. Maybe even burn it," she said, her eyes gleaming at the prospect. "What with it having Odango germs. Licking it would be like..." she trailed off, but smiled with a toss of her head as if the insinuation was enough to disgust him. "Well, gotta go. See you later."

"Bye," Mamoru mumbled. He looked down at the caramel apple, shining in the light. Rich and brown, with tell-tale "nibbles" dotting its surface.

Mamoru cautiously checked to see that no one was around. Once he had done that he took a miniscule bite out of an unmarred area of the warm caramel apple. Scrumptious. Then he heard Motoki returning from the men's room and hurried to take the apple to its final resting place, the trash can, all the while comaplaining about Odango and her disgusting confections.

But from that day forth, caramel apples seemed to Mamoru, the most heavenly of treats.


	12. No 80: Pandora's Box

I'm so sorry I don't post my drabbles here as soon as I write them, but I am the champion of pointless laziness and just...I'm very sorry. So I'm going to hunt for all the drabbles of mine that I have yet to post and will do so. They won't be in the order I wrote them, but that probably doesn't REALLY matter. Anyway, enjoy.

* * *

**# 80: Pandora's Box**

* * *

Now she'd done it. With the flick of a slim wrist and the toss of an appallingly bad test, that golden-haired gift of the gods had wreaked total havoc. No one asked her to pout deliciously, spring about like a little rabbit, to seemingly beg for the catastrophe that she inevitably brought about. So you have her to blame. She's the one who released all the troubles known to man, which were in turn channeled through me, Chiba Mamoru. 

Plague.

"So, Odango, have you failed any tests in the last hour? Huh? Or no, perhaps you broke your scale today?"

"I swear, Chiba, you're like a…disease!"

Sorrow.

"Mamoru-baka, why can't you ever try to be decent? All you seem capable of is making me miserable."

Despair.

_Look at her; she can barely stand the sight of me. I torment her like there's no tomorrow—how can I expect her to do anything but loathe me?_

Yet this tale, like most others, has its silver lining. Because, despite the many misfortunes my Pandora may have let loose, there _was_ that little spirit at the bottom of the box who managed to shine on.

Hope.

_Did she just smile at me?_

* * *

Okay, I adore this theme. I love Greek mythology and I've been waiting for my Grecian muse to bestow me with some inspiration. She actually visited me quite a while ago, I just sorta...forgot about the inspiration. Woops. 


	13. No 54: Nightmare

* * *

**# 54: Nightmare**

* * *

The bedroom was awash in the moon's rays and all had settled into a comforting silence when Usagi awoke. Her head seemed to have sprung from the pillow and her breaths came out in short, gasping ones, breaking into the stillness of the night.

"Usagi?" came Luna's muffled voice from beneath the sugar pink comforter that had been flung onto her. "What is it?" The cat poked her head out to look at Usagi with curious concern.

The blonde girl passed a small hand shakily through her golden tresses. "It was..."

"What?" asked Luna.

"A nightmare," breathed Usagi.

"Are you all right?" asked the cat, placing a comforting paw on Usagi's knee.

She nodded. "Just...shaken."

Luna stared out of luminous eyes, urging Usagi to describe it.

She needed no second bidding. "In it, I was fighting a youma. And it was really gross, with all this oozy stuff dripping off it and it had green fangs and of course, I was fighting like a champ, making that youma wish it had never been born."

"Of course," said Luna dryly.

"Well anyway, the youma pulled its dripping tongue out and was getting ready to throw it at me—"

"Its tongue?" Now Luna was beginning to understand why Usagi had been so disturbed by her dream.

"Yeah, weird right? Well I was about to get hit by this flying tongue of doom when Tuxedo Kamen comes and literally sweeps me off my feet and out of the tongue's way."

"And this is a nightmare, how?"

"I'm getting there," Usagi said, giving Luna that same remonstrative look that she was usually on the receiving end of. "So, Tuxedo Kamen has me in his warm, strong arms and he smells great and I'm staring into his gorgeous blue eyes that really, you could lose yourself in—"

Luna cleared her throat.

"Erm, then I thank him as usual and he smiles this gleaming smile at me. Then suddenly his mask vanishes and it's...it's...Mamoru!"

"Mamoru," repeated Luna.

"Yeah! It was awful!" exclaimed Usagi.

"And then?"

"And then...and then I woke...up?" she said uncertainly. "It was a nightmare!" she reiterated fervently.

The black cat stretched luxuriously, yawning as she settled back into a resting position. "That, Usagi, was not a nightmare, but what we normal people...cats...what have you, like to call a fantasy."

"But—"

"Usagi, please go to sleep and have yourself another nightmare, will you?"

The only response she received was an indignant humph.

* * *

If you were expecting something with angst or drama...well this wasn't the right drabble. I considered something of that sort maybe with Usagi dying or Mamoru dying but then I was like "Nah," because we're not in the mood for that are we? I'm not anyway Hope you liked it! 


	14. No 38: Studying

* * *

**#38: Studying**

* * *

"Odango Atama, what are you doing?"

"Studying."

A long, still silence fell over the arcade, giving all of its patrons the perfect amount of time to blink a few times and maybe adjust their ears as well.

Mamoru arched an eyebrow in disbelief. "I hate to break it to you, Odango, but you are not studying. There is no book in front of you. In order to study, one must attempt to learn more about a certain subject. And in doing so, one should probably have some intelligence to begin with." Mamoru leaned back with a superior air, readying himself for her outburst.

The man was out of luck, for it never came. Usagi was calm and cool as she repeated: "I'm studying."

He frowned, then shrugged his shoulders. "No, you're definitely not studying, but fine, I'll humor you." He gave her sideways glance before returning to his coffee.

As soon as he'd done so, Usagi's bright gaze of baby-blue was drawn to his form. Her eyes took in the ebony bangs sweeping over his brow, the well-defined muscles beneath the fabric of his jacket, the tongue licking those perfect lips.

"Seriously, Odango," he swung around to face her, unable to control his desire to know, "what are you doing?"

"I'm attempting to learn more about a certain subject, Mamoru-baka, just like you said. I'm studying."


	15. No 6: Blue Eyes

I rather surprised myself with this drabble. No, not because it is my first one in who knows when (I've stopped being surprised by my inactivity) but because it's, well, not as G-rated as my drabbles usually are. Not to say this drabble deserves to have a great big 'X' stricken through it; I'd say PG-13 is a better rating. Regardless, I hope you like!

* * *

#6: Blue Eyes

* * *

"Mamo-chan?"

"Mmm?"

"What if I was different?"

Mamoru shifted onto his side so as to groggily face her heart-shaped countenance. He really wished she wouldn't choose such difficult times of the morning (3:08 AM to be precise) to probe him. He pulled the covers tightly around their two forms, supporting his head with a hand as he questioned her.

"What do you mean?"

"What if…I was a brunette? What if I didn't have blue eyes? What if they were green?"

"Usako, why are you asking this?"

"Well, would you still have fallen in love with me? And before you say anything about not judging on appearances, people _do _judge and I just want to know what it was about me that attracted you." She worried her bottom lip, pink and pale, a feature he privately hoped would never be "different."

"Well as a physician and an honest man I would have to say your health. You are the picture of good health."

Usagi squinted at him disbelievingly. "Erm…okay. So doctors have the hots for everyone outside the hospital?"

"Not exactly."

"But I mean, my health?"

Languorously, his arm draped around her waist and drew her warm body close to him. As she blushed, he swept a finger over her cheeks. "Item one: invigoratingly rosy cheeks, especially so when I used to tease you into anger in the olden days. Or," he added in a suggestive undertone, "when you're thinking something inappropriate."

She cleared her throat as innocently as possible. "Go on."

"Item two: bright, acute eyes. No matter the color," he said hurriedly.

"What if they were brown, though?" Usagi demanded. "Or_ what _if ONE eye was hazel and the other was blue?"

Mamoru groaned.

"Do you want me to continue?"

She nodded meekly.

"Item three: a healthy appetite."

She frowned at him. "You are not going to tell me that my being a pig turns you on."

"What if it does?" he said in amusement.

"Then I am way too attractive for my own good."

He chuckled. "Do you want to hear the last item?" At her positive answer he pulled her so close that she was breaths from him, only the whispery satin of her nightgown separating her body from his. In husky syllables he whispered in her ear: "Item four: a warm and very healthy body." His palm ran down the length of item four and she felt her healthy heart beat rapidly against her chest.

"So doctor," she managed through a shaky breath, throwing his breathing off as well when her nimble fingers found the waistband of his sweatpants. "perhaps you'll do me the favor of confirming that last one? Thoroughly?"


	16. Thorns

_Here's irony for you,_ thought Tuxedo Kamen as he evaded the giant rose thorn flying towards him. The youma, which resembled a mutated wildflower screeched in annoyance and hurled a spray of smaller thorns.

And, of course, Sailor Moon had chosen to stand right in the line of fire.

_Well this is going to hurt_. He swooped towards the heroine. Reaching one arm out he plucked her out of harm's way while a rain of thorns flew at them.

Tuxedo Kamen's flinch was infinitesimal as sharp pains in his hand and arm made themselves known.

"Are you alright, Tuxedo Kamen?" Sailor Moon questioned anxiously.

He granted her a small smile. "Fine. I'll live a while longer."

She returned his smile. "I guess that means I will too."

---

"What's with the bandaid, Baka?" asked Usagi, gesturing towards Mamoru's broad palm.

He glanced at it. "I saved a girl's life; it's my battle wound." Hey, he could tell the truth once in a while.

"Hilarious. So what happened to the kiss?"

"Huh?" Mamoru asked blankly, unconsciously locking his gaze on Usagi's lips.

"Weren't you ever taught that a kiss will heal any boo-boo?" demanded Usagi. "Why didn't the girl kiss your hand to make it better?"

"Did you just say the word 'boo-boo?'"

She ignored the question, asking one of her own. "Can I see it?"

"Uh, no, no boo-boo showing today, thanks." _Not unless you promise to heal it. And my lips. Yeah, my lips are definitely in need of some healing. _

She shrugged and turned away. "Okay then. As long as you don't get septicemia or anything and end up dead by tomorrow."

"Oh, I'll live a while longer," he replied automatically, still fantasizing about the kind of healing he needed from Usagi. He didn't look up in time to see the blonde whip around in astonishment, eyes large as saucers.

---

Sexual _healin.' _Sorry, writing this drabble got me humming the song.


	17. No 15: Mistake

* * *

#15: Mistake

* * *

Mamoru sighed as he walked out of the men's bathroom of Kaedo's, the scene of Juuban's "most romantic eating experience" (according to Frommer's). Motoki's brain must have taken the day off—why else would he invite Mamoru along with him on his date with Reika? 

Okay, so Mamoru had no life, so what? He was perfectly happy with that, thank you. 

He didn't enjoy being the tag-a-long. Tag-A-Longs were peanut butter cookies manufactured solely for Girl Scout fundraising activities. 

He wound his way through the moony-eyed couples and his eyes lit upon the table which Motoki and Reika sat at. Watching them talk eagerly, Mamoru felt an inexplicable suspicion that they were discussing him. He moved within earshot and hit upon the brilliant notion of tying his shoe behind an artificial tree. 

"Yeah," Motoki agreed with his girlfriend, "Mamoru doesn't know what he's missing." 

_And Mamoru is one smart cookie, _thought the man behind the artificial tree. 

"Really," said Reika, "she's a gorgeous girl. So she's younger—so what? That's what makes her so…vivacious." 

"Any other guy would kill to have her look at him like she does," added Motoki. 

Mamoru vaguely heard the sound of his heartbeat quickening. _How does she look at me?_ he wondered. 

"They would make _the_ perfect couple." 

He couldn't stop himself—he bolted over to the table before they could change the topic. 

Coolly, he said, "Me and Odango Atama make the perfect couple? Ha!" Mamoru applauded himself for holding back a toothy smile. 

"Uh…actually we were talking about you and Rei," Motoki said. 

Reika narrowed her eyes at Mamoru. "What made you think it was Usagi? All we described was a gorgeous, vivacious, young girl who would be ideal for you…" 

"Wow, Mamoru," Motoki said with wide grin, "I've never seen you blush so hard." 


	18. No 56: Red String of Destiny

Serenity couldn't fall back to sleep. The rosy glow of dawn slipped in through the window panes as she hoisted herself off the down covers and pulled on her wrapper. She crept out of her bedroom. Most people would have ventured out for a glass of water or herbal tea—what the silver-haired princess needed was one (or a dozen) of cook's freshly-baked raspberry tarts.

As Serenity padded down the corridor she spotted a gossamer-thin thread the color of vermilion trailing across the marble floor. She bent to have a closer look and surmised that someone's crimson gown was slowly unraveling. She unhooked the thread from an infinitesimal nail in the wall and slowly followed it in the opposite direction she had been traveling. She followed the thread as it twisted through corridors, wove down the staircase and eventually entered the tower that housed her mother's throne room.

By now consumed by curiosity, Serenity followed the thread so intently that she didn't even notice the fine polished boot until she collided into it.

"Oh! I do apologize I was merely…" Her words lingered in the air as she caught the amused gaze of the boot's owner. His silver-flecked blue eyes studied hers and strands of unfamiliar black hair swung into his face as he bent down to her level.

"Not at all. I hadn't even noticed the lining of my cape was slowly becoming knitting thread."

Wide-eyed, she stuttered, "Y-yes. Your…highness?" she guessed taking in his raiment, though she certainly had never laid eyes on him before and could not guess from where he hailed.

He nodded. "Endymion—of Earth."

"Oh. I-I do ask you pardon. I was simply following this string, thinking it belonged to a courtier's gown. I couldn't sleep, you see and so I slipped out and…" She trailed off once more, a blush rising in her cheeks when she realized that she was babbling.

"No need to ask my pardon. And you, you are…?"

"Princess Serenity," she breathed, unconscious of the fact that she was winding the red thread around her finger now.

"I am honored." Without moving from his undignified squatting position, he grasped her fingers in his and kissed them along with the red string surrounding them. He looked up at her and smiled. As he did, she noticed that the corners of his eyes crinkling most attractively and his dark bangs swung over them, pieces of blue showing through.

Needless to say, Serenity forgot all about the raspberry tarts.


	19. No 53: Giddy

"Look!"

"What?" Mamoru asked wearily. He barely turned his head, only to have a hand smack it as it turned. "Wow, you really got me good that time."

Usagi clapped her hands as she erupted into a fit of mirthful giggles. "I know!"

Mamoru grinned unwillingly as his golden-haired companion began to sing snatches of a song which he suspected she had just recently thought up. Apparently, tone-deafness went hand in hand with tipsiness.

"Usagi, I have no idea what you were thinking, going to that party."

"Seiya said I could!"

"Yeah, well, Seiya's an idiot," Mamoru said feelingly. "I don't know why you hang around him."

Usagi giggled to herself, hiding her mouth with a hand.

"Now what?"

"You don't know."

"Well, that is why normal people (like myself) ask questions."

"It's a secret."

"Ah. I won't pry then."

"Where'd Motoki go?"

Mamoru sighed, biting back his impatience. "You've asked five times already, Odango."

"Don't call me that!" she said with spirit. Mamoru rolled his eyes—some things never changed, in spite of a lack of sobriety.

"Where's Motoki?"

"We dropped him off back at his place. Remember?"

"Oh. Did it hurt?"

"Huh?" Now Mamoru was just plain confused.

"When we dropped him, silly."

Mamoru's lips parted so he could clarify what he had meant. He thought better of it, though. "I didn't bother to ask him," he said in a grave voice. They walked along the moonlit asphalt curb, silently for a few moments.

"Turn here?" Mamoru asked. Usagi had convinced her parents that she was sleeping over at Rei's; he was determined to make sure that this time around, she would do just that.

"I think so. I guess. Yeah. Do you really want to know about Seiya?"

"Uh…"

"Cus he told me not to tell you."

Mamoru looked at her sharply, a cold fear creeping into his chest. Just what kind of relationship did he and Usagi have, exactly? Why had he taken to hanging onto Usagi recently, accompanying her into the Arcade so smugly every day?

"I think you should tell me," Mamoru said firmly.

"Seiya told me not to."

His eyes narrowed down at her, and she widened her own. "Usagi…"

"Well, here's the temple. Thanks Mamoru!"

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" he asked, forgetting his suspicion and replacing it with concern.

She nodded right before stumbling into him. He caught her form in his arms, automatically wrapping them around her. He grinned into her blushing face.

"Just a little light on your feet," he teased softly.

She gazed up at him, moonlight painting her lashes silver-gold. He drank in the blue orbs shimmering beneath them, the golden bangs, softly fluttering in the wind. "Good night, Usagi," he whispered, barely managing to speak. He didn't want to let go but he knew his body would betray him into doing something she, in her intoxication, would regret. He gently pushed her away.

She muttered something as she walked away. He immediately swore the wind chimes and soughing trees had garbled the words he thought had reached his ears.

"Seiya's wrong—jealousy can't help you win a guy. All you need is a little Smirnoff."


	20. No 48: Rosebud

"Ungt now, we proceeed to de vord association test. Yis, you are ready?"

"Oh yeah, _more _than ready to take you to the nearest psych ward. I don't see why you think I'm the one who needs to take these pointless psychological exams."

Motoki removed his owlish, Freud-like reading glasses to rub his eye. "Come on, Mamoru, you said you'd help me with this project. I need a good grade in this class."

"But I don't remember promising to put up with your embarrassing attempts at speaking with a German accent."

"Okay, okay I'll drop it. Ready?"

His victim shrugged his shoulders, at the same time licking his lips nervously. Though he didn't really care for psychology as a science, he was a little intimidated by the thought of possibly baring his soul to Motoki like this. "Sure."

"Cat."

"Dog."

"Blue."

"Sky."

"Moon."

"Princess."

That odd response caught Dr. Furuhata off-guard. "Huh?"

"What," Mamoru continued neutrally.

"Wait!"

"Stop."

"TIME OUT."

"…Referee."

Motoki sighed in disgruntlement and decided to think before saying anything else.

"Rose."

"Bud."  
"Rabbit."

"Lovely." Motoki's brows rose at that. Interesting. How about…

"Love?"

"Odango. Wait, no I meant…hate! Yeah, hate!" Mamoru's tone bordered on hysterical.

Motoki's eyes gleamed wickedly over the glasses. "Verrry in-te-res-ting," he trilled, enunciating each syllable of the last word. "A goot look into your subconscious, don't you think, Mr. Chiba?"

"Oh, shut up." __


	21. No 79: Naughty

After an eternity, here is a new Christmas-themed drabble! Enjoy!

* * *

"You deserve to be on the naughty list," Usagi said, as she fiercely crossed her arms.

Mamoru did not appear to be stricken with guilt. Instead, he winked at his pouting wife and ate up the frosting-glazed window of what had once been Usagi's gingerbread house. "Not true! Yoo shaid I could eatch it'" he reminded her, his full mouth and obvious glutton-like tendencies, reminding her of herself. _They do say husbands and wives can start acting like one another, _Usagi recalled, _But this is scary._

Remembing the problem at hand, though, she yelled at him over the sound of "Jingle Bell Rock," which their neighbors had begun blasting. "I said you could eat it _when I got home_."

Mamoru blinked. "Oh."

The blonde woman shook her head in annoyance. _"_That was just naughty and _mean_, Mamoru...baka!" she suddenly found herself saying. Her husband's eyebrows flew up--he hadn't heard that nickname since Usagi's high school days, when she was so desperately fighting her attraction towards him she covered it up with childish insults.

A tactic _he_ never used, of course...*cough.*

Mamoru uncurled his legs out from under him and rose from the kitchen chair. "What did you just call me?"

Usagi raised her chin defiantly. "Mamoru-baka!"

Without missing a beat, Mamoru swiped some pink frosting from the plate upon which the gingerbread house had stood and spread it across Usagi's cheek. "Merry Christmas, Odango," he said innocently.

His wife, of course, would not take that sitting down.

Which was why she promptly tackled her tall, dark, handsome husband with as much force as she could muster. Which was why he had to retaliate by tickling her. Which was why she of course had to wriggle and tickle back. Which was why Mamoru had to tend to the frosting on Usagi's cheek, which was why she had to kiss him, which was why he had kiss her back...

Which was why a long while later they found themselves pleasantly, breathlessly recovering.

"Usa?" Mamoru softly said to the blonde resting in his arms.

"Hmm?" she trilled, rancor over the gingerbread house long gone.

"I believe...that you might belong on the naughty list, too." A bright, Christmas-red blush appeared in her cheeks. Mamoru grinned, adding: "And I like it that way."


	22. No 4: Karma

#4: Karma

* * *

Mamoru couldn't resist the befuddled look on the girl's face, the worrying of her bottom lip, the puzzled scratching of the blonde head as she bent over a textbook. It practically _begged _for his mocking. It was as if she were saying to him, "Please Mamoru, please mock me, I beg of you."

He was more than happy to comply.

Which was why he sidled, in his most fox-like manner, up to her stool.

"A is for apple, Odango," he quipped, dropping into the seat next to her. "And those funny scribbles next to the picture of the girl running are_words_. They say 'See Jane Ru--'"

Without even looking up--as if it were reflex--she slapped his arm. "Shut up. I'm trying to read this."

He rubbed his arm, grin still on his face. "Betcha don't get to say that often."

She continued ignoring him, forehead still puckered. He mirrored her perturbed expression and craned his neck to see what textbook the odango-head could find so much more interesting than _him_.

Only to discover that it wasn't a textbook at all. At least, she had a textbook in front of her, but laying inside was...

"A poem, Odango?"

"Yup, and a love poem at that," she snapped back, raising her chin with some pride.

"Oh."

_Ha! That shut him up_, she thought.

"What was the guy _on_?"

Usagi screeched in outrage and tried to hit him again, but he grabbed her wrist. "Ah, ah, play nice, Odango." He glanced back at the sheet of paper. "What, is his vocabulary too refined for you?"

"What do you mean?" she asked with narrowed eyes.

Mamoru explained his meaning by aping her scrunching of her forehead, gnawing at the lip, and the scratching of her head.

A giggle slipped out of Usagi's mouth, unbidden, but then she gravely said: "It's just that there's this one word in this Indian guy, Anand's poem that's...Hindi, I think?"

Damn. He couldn't tease her about that, since hell if he could read a word of any South Asian language, let alone Hindi.

Usagi rushed to say: "And I'm pretty sure I _do_ recognize the word, but it still doesn't make sense. He mentions 'Kama' so I was like oh, 'what comes around goes around,' but then I was like, did I insult him so now he's going to take it out on me with bad poetry--"

"Woah, woah, woah. Did you say _'Karma'_?"

"No, stupid, it's _Kama_."

An ominous dread seized Mamoru. In a flash he had grabbed the poem from where it innocently lay, deaf to Usagi's protests, and read the words: "...sail on the River Brahmaputra...yada yada...let's you and me learn a few things from the Kama Sut--"

And on the spot, heedless of what Usagi's response might be, Mamoru ruthlessly crushed the poem in his hand and stalked out of the Arcade.

***

"Anand, could I see you out in the hall a moment?"

The foreign exchange student widened his bespectacled eyes. "Yes, of course, Haruna-san." He followed her out.

"Anand, I got a worrying call from Usagi's, well, from her father (_I think? his voice sounded rather strange..._) this morning about an inappropriate poem..."

***  
"Karma" is actually Sanskrit I think, but what the heck, let's not get too nitpicky. Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and if you find the time (and the kindness) please review!


	23. No 1: Chocolate

_For the first three themes of the challenge, I wrote three "true" (100-word) drabbles, and present two of them to you. I liked my masks one, but not enough to post it (yet). _

* * *

#1: Chocolate

* * *

From the corner of his eye, he watched her slowly slip the chocolate into her mouth, then languorously lick her pink lips clean of melted chocolate or golden caramel.

"Chocolate really is sinful."

Usagi whipped her head up. "What?"

Mamoru was taken aback when he realized that the blonde had heard him. "Uh…"

"I guess you have a point. Chocolate is illegally tempting, delicious, and so sweet you dream about it. You can't help craving it."

His eyes strayed to the slender finger she'd begun to lick free of chocolate. "Sounds exactly like someone I know."

"What was that?"

"Uh…"


	24. No 3: Hair

_Another true drabble :) _

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#3: Hair

* * *

"What do you think, Ami-chan? 30 centimeters? 50 centimeters?"

"Well I'm not sure Usagi. I don't even know why you'd want to cut your hair so drastically…"

Nearby, Mamoru choked on his coffee.

"Why not, Ami? Maybe I want a change."

"Maybe," Ami whispered, "you just don't want to be teased about your odangos anymore."

"Not true! I'm late for dinner, I'll see you tomorrow."

"Bye."

"Say, Ami?"

She looked Mamoru over in bewilderment as he approached. "Yes Mamoru-san?"

"Would it be possible…"

"To talk Usagi out of cutting her hair?"

"Well…"

"I'll get on it." And she actually winked.


	25. No 10: Sweet 16

**#10: Sweet 16**

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Princess Serenity's eyes reflected the hot, flickering glow of the sixteen candles Endymion had fixed into the cake's butter cream frosting. The prince had presented the pastry to her with a bow and a flourish, but though she clapped in delight, she had raised a questioning look at him. She didn't understand what she was to do with the candles and their flames.

"Why, you make a wish and blow them out," he explained. "That's what we do on Earth."

"Oh, I see." The corners of her pink mouth lifted as she looked at the prince once more; his handsome, smiling face was bent close to hers and she could see the slivers of the shadows his dark lashes cast on his cheek. She abruptly turned her golden head back to the cake, closed her eyes, and allowed a huge gust of her breath to extinguish the candles."Did I do it right?"

"Like a true Earthling," he assured her, the midnight blue of his eyes laughing and glimmering in the only light now available to them--that of the stars and Earth. Both young royals had their legs tucked beneath them, backs to a cluster of lilac bushes. The gauze of Serenity's skirts was cast along the garden lawn, shining like an iridescent peacock feather.

The truth was that Endymion desperately wanted to ask what the princess had wished for. Wistfully, he wondered if it came anywhere near his own very strong wishes. But he didn't pose the question, not even suspecting that Serenity was wriggling on the inside, dying for him to ask. Wondering _why_ he wasn't asking that same question. _Is he frightened of what my answer will be? _

Perhaps, they really were destined to be just friends, she thought to herself—not without some heart-clenching disappointment.

"Serenity?" he broke the silence all of a sudden.

"Y-yes?"

For some reason, the prince was not quite meeting her eyes now. Before she could make heads or tails of this behavior, an unexpected question had rushed out of his mouth. "Would you like to know of another tradition we have on Earth? It's performed especially on a girl's sixteenth birthday."

Serenity nodded, smile appearing on her face again, and excitement rising into it as well.

"She...she gets a kiss for every year she's been alive."

Now Serenity understood why he hadn't met her eye. She suddenly felt her heart beating, fluttering in her chest as if desperate to escape. She clasped her hands together, bright pink blush flooding her cheeks. "Endymion, that's...that's silly..." she said, albeit unconvincingly. "What an odd custom..."

The dark-haired young man appeared to be uncertain as well, but after a moment, another smile filled his face and he approached her. She had begun to back away along the grass until she was almost lost in the sweet-smelling lilac and leaves. And had nowhere to go.

"You can't be serious," she said. "Sixteen kisses is so...excessive!" she exclaimed in a trembling voice.

"Oh, not sixteen kisses to the mouth," he countered, waving that notion aside.

"No?"

Was that disappointment he'd heard in her voice just then?

"No," Endymion assured her. "Here—I shall demonstrate." He took hold of her soft ,white hand and dropped a perfunctory kiss onto her fingers. "One."

She didn't have the chance to speculate whether all these "kisses" were to be prim kisses to the hand, because before she knew it, his warm body had drawn closer to hers and his even warmer, gentle hands had come to rest lightly on either side of her face. "Endymion..."

He bent his head over hers, face approaching her, and she felt her mouth go dry. Involuntarily, her eyes fluttered shut, lips raised expectantly. But again, she was robbed of "the" kiss. He'd kissed her forehead. "Two," he chirped out.

She nearly growled. Her grandmama kissed her head like that.

But his hands were still holding her face in their firm, yet gentle grasp. Again he descended upon her, again her eyelids fell, and this time his lips pressed reverently to each shut eye. "Three and four," he breathed. Whatever she'd thought at first, those last two kisses had not been those of a grandmother or of just a friend.

She turned wide round blue eyes to him and his own eyes crinkled at the corners. He gave her a smacking kiss on the nose. "Five. D'you know, I wish you were turning 82?"

In spite of her hot, flushed skin and erratic heartbeat, Serenity laughed shakily. "I will be by the time you've done," she informed him saucily.

"Six and seven," he announced as he tried to kiss away the twin blushes on of her cheeks. They only bloomed into a darker crimson.

"This isn't really an Earth tradition, is it?" Serenity whispered as his lips finally came achingly close to her own.

"Mm, it should be."

And with that, he closed the space in between their mouths and they were really kissing this time. His fingers automatically curled into her tendrils of silver-gold hair and his mouth on hers was even softer and sweeter than she'd realized it could be. He angled his face to allow for better access and she wondered if she would ever see another birthday because she felt as if she would die with all the emotion and—was it love?—swelling into her.

"Sweet 16, indeed," she thought she heard him murmur when they'd broken apart. "Have you, by chance, had your wish come true in the past few minutes?" he asked with a jaunty smile.

She sniffed, though her shallow breaths had already betrayed her. "You know Endy, you think much too highly of yourself. Thinking you could lie like that about the "custom" too. And besides, for all you know, I could have wished for a new dress." She nodded with an air of superiority.

"You would have done better to have wished for a better head for mathematics."

Affronted, Serenity drew back. "What do you mean by that!"

He shrugged slightly. "Only that I'm rather annoyed you haven't realized that 16 minus 8...leaves another eight left."

She couldn't help it: she smiled and allowed him to amend that little math error.

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Please review :)


	26. No 52: Protector

#52: Protector

* * *

Usagi forced herself to take one long breath to calm herself, as if she was preparing to dive into deep waters. She chewed on her lip for a few seconds, then resolutely strode up to the arcade counter.

"Mamoru, I need to talk to you."

The young man was caught off-guard for once. He had been sucking down a soda through a straw and in response to Usagi's comment, raised comically wide eyes to the girl. "Mff?"

"This is serious," she chided, seating herself on the stool beside him. "I need to ask you something and it's important."

Releasing the straw, Mamoru nodded mock-seriously. "You want to know how I got to be so dashingly handsome? Well, I suppose it began with my enviable genes..."

By this time, Usagi was rolling her blue eyes. "Trust me, there is no occasion to ask that."

"You mean it goes without asking."

"I _mean_," Usagi huffed, "I want to ask you know any cute, single college guys."

"Ex_cuse_ me?" Mamoru asked in a dangerously low voice.  
**  
"**I know it's a stretch," Usagi commented airily, "but hopefully even _you_ have at least _one_ good-looking friend who'd love to date a sweet high school girl."

There was an ominous crushing sound. Mamoru's empty Sprite can easily gave way to his grip, as if it were made of paper instead of aluminum.

"Oh, be careful with that. I wouldn't ask, but you know, there comes a time when every girl, no matter how strong, wants a man–a real man—to be there for her. To kind of be her protector, you know?" Wistfully, Usagi thought of a certain masked hero. "So, do you know of anyone?" she pressed the man before her, eyes raised imploringly to his.

Before he could bite out an unequivocal "NO ONE," a thoughtful expression crossed Mamoru's face. "You know, as a matter of fact, Odango, I know just the person."

Usagi fished a piece of paper out of her bag. "Great! Just tell him to come to this address at six o'clock Friday night! Thanks!" 

If she had glanced back before she zoomed out the door, Usagi would have seen a disturbingly evil grin on Mamoru's face.  
*****

Usagi hummed to herself as she pranced around her room, pretending to tidy it up, but in reality making more of a mess than before. All of a sudden, the phone rang, and, seeing the caller ID, she hurried to answer it. "Hey Ami, what's up? How's your date going?"

"_Usagi_." Startled, Usagi practically jumped back from the phone. Had that been a...snarl?

"A-ami?" the blonde tried meekly.

"This guy is...batty. Umino's better than him." Ami shuddered as she peered over the partition separating the restaurant bathrooms from the seating area. Seated at a table for two was a nineteen-year-old with bottle-rim glasses, wearing a blue shirt with an "S" on it and a short red cape sewn to the shoulders. "He thinks he's a super hero."

"A protector," Usagi breathed.

* * *

I know of someone who wears such a shirt...they're definitely out there, lol. Please review! :)


	27. No 47: Broken Glass

FYI, this is a (much) more serious piece than usual, but I hope you still appreciate what I've tried to do with the theme.

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Hush Sound's beautiful music (darn), specifically "You Are the Moon." _

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**#47: Broken Glass**

* * *

_I will bring a mirror, so silver, so exact  
So precise and so pristine, a perfect pane of glass_

The soft rustling of sheets and the slight creak that sounded as Usagi rose from bed, wakened her fiancee. Her form **s**lipped out of the nighttime shadows that engulfed the bedroom as, with a click, she turned on the bathroom light.

He would have allowed sleep to roll over him once more, if not for an undefinable tug he felt within him. There was nothing out of the ordinary about her waking up and going to the bathroom, but when he only heard frozen silence escape that room, and he'd looked to see the dots of perspiration that remained on her pillow—in spite of the cool night—Mamoru pushed himself up to follow her.

His unease bloomed into panic upon hearing an abrupt shattering of glass. The mad dash brought him to the bathroom's threshold and then he saw her sitting there: under the brash halogen light, the hand mirror she kept in his cupboard held in her tight grasp, as she stared intently into it. The broken glass showed empty eyes, but she didn't break her unwavering gaze. The glittering shards splayed out on the floor were spread about her like the moat protecting the fortress.

A mumble: "S-sorry, it fell. I'll clean it up."

He knelt. Put up a hand to free the mirror from her fragile fingers, but her clasp only tightened.  
_  
All the light that you possess is skewed by lakes and seas  
The shattered surface, so imperfect, is all that you believe _

It was a burden, he knew. God he knew. Not the responsibility, but the doubts rousing her from sleep; the apprehension of never being good enough, not being ready to be Neo-Queen Serenity. _  
_

Without a word, he scooped her into the hollow of his arms. Clinks from the glass sounded behind them as pieces fell from the skirts of her nightgown. She continued to look into the mirror's cracked surface, the black shooting out across it like veins.

"I broke it. Bad luck," she told him, eyes focused on her distorted, white-faced reflection.

The girl, the warrior who could stand down an army, who'd met death's eye unflinchingly, was reduced to a magic trick: white smoke and a mirror.

She murmured, "Put me down. You don't need to act like the savior all the time." He slid the balcony door open and gently released her. But she continued: "Even I'm strong enough to walk on my own two feet. But you probably don't agree, huh?" She didn't wait for an answer. The young woman shut her eyes to the moonlight and in a voice that broke: "I can't do it. I can't be the destiny of this whole world. I _can't _be queen. I'll ruin it—everything. Why do I have this...this _weight_ on my shoulders? I'm not fit for any of it, Mamoru!" She whirled to face him, then immediately looked back at the mirror. "This is not the face of a leader. I'm weak. Broken."

She was still luminescent in white, her hair's soft light cast about her shoulders, but when he took the mirror from her he didn't show her this particular beauty. Instead he turned it to face the full moon. Its incandescent white light was brilliant even in the glass shards. He showed her the glow of the moon's face, a beauty that cut through the night with surety.

"You're wrong. That is you, Usa. It's your past and your present, and all of us are your future. The moon has the courage to come out every night, no matter its brilliance, sometimes a sliver of light, sometimes a whole, beautiful self. I know you can push forward too, love; and your light can lead all of us out of the darkness.

Yes, you're our destiny. But the Earth is the Moon's destiny too. It is yours and you, my beautiful Usa, are mine; you're not alone, love."

_You don't see what you possess, a beauty calm and clear  
It floods the sky and blurs the darkness like a chandelier_

"And now the Moon's bidding us good night. Please come to sleep, my moon."

She let him twine his fingers in hers and he saw that the light had begun to fill her eyes once more.

* * *

Please review!


	28. No 40: If the Shoe Fits

**#90: If the Shoe Fits**

* * *

It had all gone wrong. Terribly, terribly wrong.

She could still hear the rustling of ruffled skirts, pattering of heels, and the pulsing music that certainly did not scream sweet or ethereal to her. In fact, it just screamed. The punch bowl had been overflowing with everything but punch; Ami and Makoto had already left, feeling sick to their stomachs because of it; and worst of all, she'd somehow gotten tangled up in the ribbons of her mother's ugly high-heeled shoes and torn a gaping hole in her lovely snow-white skirt. All because she'd lost those perfect matching shoes of crystal, she had bought specially for this dance.

The fairy lights that framed the front entrance of her school now seemed as dull and weary as she felt. Seated on the front step, she crossed her arms in her lap and rested her head in them, not even noticing the sharp cold weaving its way through the night.

She then heard a throat clearing—once, twice. Slowly, she lifted her head and was sure her eyes were about to fall out of that same head.

"Uh, ahem, you left these at the Arcade. Odango," he amended holding out a box.

She stared up at him, her eyelashes still a little damp. She then shook her head as she shifted to hide the tear in her skirt. "Thanks Mamoru-baka, but I don't think I need them anymore."

Instead of leaving as she'd assumed he would, he studied her for a minute. "I thought you were excited about this whole…thing," he ended lamely, vaguely gesturing with his hands.

She shrugged, then reeled off: "Come to the Winter Formal, and get ready to live out a fairytale for a night. Yeah, right. My dad's tool shed is more of a fairytale wonderland."

He rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of what to do or say to this unexpectedly cynical Usagi. She was starting to sound like…_him_.

Mamoru kneeled down so as to be eye level with her, as she wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. He wasn't quite sure why he was even here on this wintry night. Motoki had been a little too insistent about his delivering the shoes, he mused, but only because Mamoru had idly offered in the first place.

If only she would smile though.

"Well," Mamoru started hesitantly, aware of how strange this was for both of them, "I think I can solve part of the problem. From what I've heard, every fairytale princess needs her glass slippers to have a happy ending." He held out the glittering heels she'd left at the Arcade and smiled crookedly. She answered the smile, choosing to humor him and wear the shoes.

She made as if to take them but found that warm hands were already cradling her ankle. His touch was unexpectedly gentle. He deftly undid the ribbons of her mother's pleather shoes and replaced them with her own crystalline ones, slipping them on with care.

He looked up at her for a moment, meeting her gaze with an uncertain smile. How had they gotten here? How had they gotten to the point where one glance could make the ground unsteady beneath their feet? Where a smile, a touch urged a quickening of the heart?

"Perfect fit. At least you've got part of your fairytale, Odango."

She answered his smile, and it was like a star emerging at dusk.

He was wrong. Her fairytale was complete.

* * *

**Please review! As you've probably noticed, I'm juggling a number of fics, so if you prioritize this fic, so will I. Thanks!**


	29. No 41: Jacket

_#41: Jacket_

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Makoto had always had an uber-sensitive sense of smell. Usagi teasingly referred to it as her "rabbit nose" whenever Makoto sniffed at the aroma escaping her special stew pots or her famous chocolate muffins baking in the oven. Usagi's teasing was cut short, of course, the second Makoto shoved a sugary baked good into her mouth.

Makoto's rabbit nose had just gone off again and was twitching away. The girls were gathered for a sleepover at Rei's, and Makoto had just closed the front door, having let Usagi in. Makoto was in the middle of asking Usagi if she'd had fun shopping with her mom when she stopped short.

"Something...smells."

Mina and Rei raised their heads from the couch simultaneously. Usagi froze. Ami merely turned the page of her book, head propped up by her rolled-up sleeping bag.

Rei was the first to reason: "Well, Mina does wear that hairbow an awful lot..."

"Hey!"

Rei ignored her. "Could also be Amy's ancient tome."

Without looking up, Amy informed Rei that this "tome" had once belonged to a Japanese prime minister.

"And Japanese politicians don't stink?"

Makoto shook her head dismissively. "It doesn't smell bad. Just...familiar. Distinct."

Curious now, the other girls began to sniff as well, all looking like eager bloodhounds.

"Honestly, I don't smell a thing," said Usagi, creeping her way towards the bathroom.

Her friends shrugged and agreed. Makoto frowned. "Maybe I'm crazy. It's familiar though. Smells like...mint. And something else I can't put my finger on..."

"'Kay, I'm off to take a shower, put a movie in you guys!" Usagi called in a voice that had gotten alarmingly high and chipmunk-like. She rushed into Rei's bathroom so fast that they could hear a wastebasket toppling over as she crashed into it.

Mina blinked and turned to look at the bathroom door for a moment. "She seem weird to you?"

Rei merely yawned as she flipped through TV channels. "No more than usual."

* * *

_One hour earlier..._

* * *

"You know, this thing isn't as disgusting as I thought it would be."

"Excuse me? You _want_ me to let you freeze?"

"I'm complimenting you!"

"Well, you suck at it."

"What I was trying to say was that I kind of like it. It's pretty soft actually."

"Mmhmm. And what else?"

"Seriously, you want me to flatter your hideous blazer?"

Darien eyed the girl he'd just draped his green jacket around to stave off the cold. The two of them had decided to meet up at a park near Rei's place. They sat at a bench where they had been talking for hours...among other things.

Usagi appeared cowed under Mamoru's stare. "Sorry, sorry, I meant to say your exquisite article of clothing."

"I don't appreciate your sarcasm."

"You can dish it, but you can't take it?" She squealed, as he enveloped her and the blazer all at once.

"So ungrateful," he muttered as he tickled her and she giggled and tried to push him away. He merely grabbed her hands, linking his fingers with hers. "Gotcha."

She pulled him closer. "I like it because it's so you," she confided into his shoulder. "Reminds me of mint and...roses."


End file.
